Sick Day, Part 2
by Isabella
Summary: Liz gets sick, Max takes care of her.


Title: Sick Day, Part 2

Author: Princess Passion

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything, please don't sue me.

Summary: Liz has a cold; Max takes care of her. Michael helps a little too.

Rating: PG-13, maybe. A couple of bad words and a little innuendo.

[][1]Spoilers: None really. Alternate time-line; Max and Liz are a couple; takes place during sophomore year.

Dedication: Usually, I dedicate my stories to my best bud, Cor, but this one is different. This is in honor of the brain-frying, head-numbing, nose-stuffing, throat-scratching, body-aching, mother-of-all-colds that I currently have.

Author's note: (( )) indicates thought. **'s mean scene change. This story isn't one of my best, please forgive me, I can barely see strait, there's _no way_ I can think strait.

  
  
  
  


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"I WIN!!!" Michael yelled, as he dropped his hand of cards on the polished wood coffee table, and got up to do his victory dance.

  
  


"You did not!!" Liz yelled back, picking up some of his cards. He didn't stop dancing, he just turned to her and stuck his tongue out like a little kid. Liz busted out laughing, and just watched Michael cavort idiotically around her livingroom. She had never known "Go Fish"could be so much fun before. The song "School's Out" by Soul Asylum blared out of the speakers, and Michael lip-synced the words as he jumped around.

  
  


**_"School's out for summer, school's out forever, school's been blown to pieces. No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks."_**

  
  


Liz laughed again, spurring a coughing spell. Michael hadn't been able to help her cold, and they both figured it would be best not to push their luck. As Michael had put it- "You might end up with an extra nose or something..."

  
  


They still didn't know why exactly Liz's nightmare and high fever had such a frightful effect on her. Michael said that one time, Isabel had told him something about human dream orbs: that if the human is in the right state, then whatever happens to them in their dream, could actually happen to their body in reality. He would have to ask Izzy about that when she and Max got back. He had wanted to call Max and Isabel in California and tell them about what happened to Liz, but she had talked him out of it, saying that they couldn't help right now, being three states away, and she didn't want to worry Max by telling him. _"Yeah honey, I'm fine. I died today, but other than that, everything's normal........."_ She could just hear it now: the thump of Max passing out. 

  
  


Liz was torn from her thoughts by the shrill, incessant ringing of the telephone. Michael was closest to the phone, and Liz was still feeling a little weak, so she didn't move from her comfy spot on the floor. The phone rang again, and Michael didn't look like he was going to stop dancing any time soon, so Liz grabbed the edge of the couch cushion and pulled herself up. She laughed as Michael hopped by her, twirling on his toes. She had never seen him like this before. ((Maybe my near death experience jarred something loose in his head . . . )) she smiled at this thought. She walked over to the small table next to the sofa and picked up the phone on the fourth ring. "Hello . . . " she said into the mouthpiece, as Michael moon-walked over to the stereo to turn down the music, just as "Maria, Maria" by Santana started to play.

  
  


**_"Maria, Maria . . . she reminds me of a west side story, growing up in Spanish Harlem, she's living the life just like a movie-star . . . "_**__

  
  


"Liz?! Girl, you sound terrible!" Maria shrieked from her end of the line.

  
  


Liz rolled her eyes, "You have no idea Maria. Where are you? You sound funny . . . "

  
  


"Actually, I'm out in the middle of nowhere, calling from where I'm stranded on the side of the road," she replied, a twinge of frustration in her voice.

  
  


"What?! Why?! Where are you?! Where's your mom?! Did something happen?!" the questions came rapidly as Liz tried to find out what was going on.

  
  


"Whoa babe, calm down! I'm fine, just stranded. See, my mom wasn't feeling so well this morning, she came down with some kind of stomach bug or something; she thinks it's because of the Chinese we ate last night, so instead of spending a couple of days holed up in the hotel, we decided to just pack up and come home, but on the way, we blew a hose or something. So now I'm sitting in the car, right smack-dab in the middle of nowhere. Mom called triple A awhile ago, but they said they were busy, and there was no way they could get someone out here until nighttime, and like I said before, we're like completely alone; no civilization for miles and miles. Plus, mom is off puking her guts out somewhere, and I don't think it would be wise for us to just start walking, not with her in this condition. So I was wondering if you could please, please, please come and get us. Cause I'm not too crazy about the idea of spending the rest of the day, and some of the night out here, with my mom throwing her cookies every few minutes," Maria said in a rush.

  
  


"Breathe Maria, God! I know you must have been _dying_ to tell somebody that all day long, am I right?" Michael said sarcastically into the extension.

  
  


"Michael?! What are you doing at Liz's?! Wait, I don't care . . . " she responded coldly.

  
  


"Guys, could you please?" Liz asked, giving Michael a sideways glance. She knew they liked each other and they liked bickering at each other even more, but right now she was worried about her best friend and her mother being deserted on the side of some road. "Maria, where are you? Be specific, you know I'm bad with directions . . . " she said after grabbing a pen and notepad. Michael made himself comfortable by plopping down on the couch, the phone still to his ear. 

  
  


Maria proceeded to give directions, and Liz wrote them down as Michael leaned forward and picked up the playing cards, squishing them into their little box. He looked up at Liz when Maria finished and he saw the furrow in her brow. She was clearly confused. He got up and walked over to her, still holding the phone. "It's not hard to get to, really. You just have to follow the old highway and take a few turns; and it's only about 45 minutes away. Actually, I know exactly where they are," he said.

  
  


Liz looked up, eyes bright, a smile on her face, "Great! Michael will be there in 45 minutes," she told Maria, and before she had a chance to argue, she hung up the phone, grabbed the extension from Michael, and did the same to it.

  
  


"What?! I'm not going to get her! I can't spend 45 minutes in a car with her! Are you crazy?!" he yelled, even though he really wasn't angry. In fact, he cherished his time with Maria, and playing the hero to her and her mother was an unexpected bonus.

  
  


"No, I'm not crazy, but I am sick, and I did die today. I really don't think it would be smart to send someone in my state out to the middle of the desert, all alone, to bring back two marooned women, one of whom is sick herself," Liz finished and raised her eyebrows to Michael. 

  
  


He made a face, groaned, then turned around and grabbed Liz's keys from their spot on the coffee table. He turned around once more, while backing up toward the door, "You owe me big, Parker." ((Or vise-versa, whatever . . . )) he thought, as he opened the front door and walked out, not bothering to shut it behind him.

  
  


____((They're_ way_ too perfect for each other.)) Liz thought, a smile touching her lips. ((It's kinda scary if you think about it.)) She frowned a little, then shrugged and walked to the door to close it.

  
  


********************

  
  


It was 3:30 in the afternoon, now. Liz sat Indian style on her livingroom sofa, a thick, ruffled throw wrapped tightly around her. Her glazed, tired eyes were fixed to the television, where Austin Powers danced naked through a hotel. She was too afraid that if she tried to get any more rest, it might kill her for good this time. The events of that morning still hadn't completely erased themselves from her memory. The terrifying images were permanently burned into her mind, the way Liz figured. And if she weren't as hazy and out of it as she was, she would've passed out long ago from the stress of remembering. The opening credits of the second Austin Powers movie were finished, and Liz let out a quiet groan, as she braced herself for basically the rest of the week that she would be spending alone and ill. 

  
  


Just as she glanced over at the clock again, only for the two millionth-time today, she heard a shuffling sound in the hallway. She immediately froze in fear. Who could that be?! Michael had called about thirty minutes ago and said that he had Maria and her mom and he was going to take them home, then just hang out or something with Maria. He had asked if she wanted them to come back over to her place, and she had said no, she didn't want to get Maria sick, and besides, it would bring them down to spend the rest of the day with a person who, at the moment, couldn't even breathe through her own nose.

  
  


Liz pushed herself up from the couch and pulled the throw around her tighter. Her hands shook nervously where they gripped it together in the front of her body. She hobbled over to the door and just as she was about to look out the peep hole, the door rattled, as the person on the other side knocked roughly. Liz jumped at this, startled, then she took in a breath and tried to calm her shattering nerves. ((Who is that?!)) her mind screamed at her. ((No one's supposed to be here!)) She reached out with one shaky hand and picked up a vase that sat on the small table near the door. Vase in hand, she proceeded forward, to peer through the tiny hole in the wooden door. She looked out and held her breath as she expected to see some dark, foreboding figure there in the hall. However, she saw no such view; instead, there in the hall, was none other than her loving, devoted soulmate, Max Evans.

  
  


Liz threw the door open and launched herself into his strong, warm embrace. She wrapped her lean arms around his neck and hugged him for all she was worth. Max hugged her back with all the same intensity, cradling her little body against his larger one. He ran his fingers through her dark silky hair, stopping at the base of her head, and gently pulling it up, off his shoulder, so that he could gaze into her face. Looking down into her puffy, reddened eyes, he was promptly alarmed.

  
  


"What's wrong??" he asked cautiously, staring deeply into her secretive eyes.

  
  


"Well........I'm sick," she offered, knowing that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

  
  


"Besides that. Did something else happen?" he urged. The paranoid, frightened expression on her face was definitely uncharacteristic for Liz. ((Something _must_ have happened.)) He thought to himself.

  
  


"Nothing important, so, what are you doing back here?! Not that I'm not happy; I am. But you know, you just kinda scared the crap out of me a second ago. No one's supposed to be in the building, and I thought someone had broken in or something . . . " she said in a hurry, trying to distract Max. She didn't feel like explaining what had happened earlier, that would involve thinking about it, and if she did that, she might just do that passing out thing she was afraid of before.

  
  


But Max wouldn't be swayed; he knew something was wrong with his girlfriend, he could feel it; feel her. "Liz, can I come in?" he got right to the point. He would explain everything once they got inside, and then it would be her turn. 

  
  


"Of course Max, you know you don't have to ask . . . " she assured him. He stepped past her, taking hold of her hand lovingly and swinging the door shut, while leading her to the couch. They got settled, Max's arms replacing the throw, as he wrapped them around the beautiful Liz. She snuggled closer and rested her cheek on his broad shoulder.

  
  


"Are you ready to tell me what's up, or do you want me to go first? He asked softly, his voice muffled a little by her hair.

  
  


Liz took a deep breath. She was getting there, but she wasn't quite ready yet. "You go first. Why are you back so soon?"

  
  


"Do you actually think I could bare to be so far away from you for an entire week?!" Max said, in a 'you-should-know-that-it's-obvious' tone.He felt Liz smile against his shoulder. He added, "And when I found out you weren't feeling well on _top_ of it, well, let's just say nothing short of Armageddon could stop me from getting back to take care of you." His voice was soft and sweet, but there was also an urgency in it. Liz understood completely; she had hated even the one day they had been apart. 

  
  


"Thank you," was her whispered reply, as her lips curved up into a full smile. 

  
  


Max leaned down and kissed the top of her head, his arms still around her body. The heat radiating off Liz's forehead shocked him as it scalded his cool lips. He frowned. He didn't like the idea of Liz being so sick, he couldn't kiss her without getting burned, _literally_. "Honey," he began tenderly, "please tell me what's wrong." His request was hushed, and Liz could've sworn she heard a faint trace of anxiety mixed in with the concern. 

  
  


Liz took her cheek off his shoulder, and lifted her head to gaze into his deep, chocolate eyes. She started seriously, "Max . . . something happened to me this morning. It was really scary, and . . . and," tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. 

  
  


Max automatically regretted pushing her. "Liz, baby, you don't have to say anything right now if you don't want to," he soothed her nerves as he stroked her long, soft hair.

  
  


"No. It's okay . . . I decided I would wait until you got back from California to tell you, but, hey, you came back early. So know, I'm gonna tell you." She took a deep breath and blew it back out in preparation. Max leaned in even closer, so that his cool forehead rested against her feverish one. He needed her to know he was right there for her, always. Her voice quivered as she began, "I was running a really high fever this morning, and when I got off the phone with you, I decided to try and get some sleep. I guess the fever activated something in my brain, and I started to have this really bad . . . awful . . . terrible dream," she amended. She then went on to explain what she saw in her dream, as she had with Michael; then she told him the weird part. "Michael came over to see if I wanted to hang out, and he heard me screaming, so he rushed up here, and he said . . . he said that I was basically convulsing. I was burning up, sweating, crying, screaming, and he couldn't get me to wake up. He kept shaking me and yelling my name, but I didn't respond . . . I just thrashed more, screaming louder and louder. Then," she paused, reaching out to wipe a falling tear off Max's cheek, as she fought back her own. "Then, he said my . . . my heart just kind of . . . stopped. I stopped breathing, and I was just laying there, pale, and still, like a dead fish or something." She could tell by the sickened look on her boyfriend's face, he didn't like the thought of her lifeless body being compared to that of a fish. He looked like he was going to puke, and she guessed he didn't like the idea of her body being lifeless at all. 

  
  


He brought his hand up to her face and cradled her flushed, pink cheek. He wanted to take all the pain, all the fear, all the memories away. ((I should've been here with her.)) The thought played over and over in his head, accompanied by, ((If Michael hadn't been here, she would've died . . . died . . . died . . . died . . . died.)) The last word blasted, as if in surround sound, against the inside his ear drums, and it made him want to cry, and scream, and be nauseous, and hate the world. Then, he calmed himself a little, and decided all he really needed to do was kiss the woman he loved. He leaned in and captured her heated lips in a delicate, yet passionate kiss. He released all of his worry, and tension, and fright in that kiss, and when it was done, he felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He still had his Liz, and no matter what, he would do anything to keep her with him forever.

  
  


Liz felt like she could read his thoughts as she stared into his eyes. She smiled when she realized all those thoughts revolved around her. She kissed Max again, this time with less gentleness, and much more fervor. She pushed him back onto the couch, lips still locked, and ran her hands down his muscular, built chest. They stayed like that, touching and kissing, for hours, until Austin Powers left the television screen for good.

  
  


************************

  
  


"Do you want chocolate syrup on your ice cream?!" Max yelled with a smile from the upstairs kitchen of Liz's apartment. Liz was all snug and comfy, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by pillows, Max had made sure of that. He had accepted no arguments about his decision to wait on his girlfriend's every want and need, until she got well. He wasn't even opposed to doing it after she got better, but he knew she would never stand for that, and at full strength, she could just push him and run past to get something if she needed it. That was one of the things he loved about Liz: she was strong in her beliefs and she believed in herself. She was definitely **_not_** one to just sit there and let people do stuff for her. It made her feel powerless, and not in control. But Max had nicely explained to her that sometimes, "You just have to let people help you." He smiled from his spot in front of the freezer when he thought back to that moment, just over an hour ago. Right after he had said that, Liz had stomped on his foot and rushed to the bathroom, to get her _own_ cold compress. 

  
  


A little voice called back, "Yes please . . . and could you put some sprinkles on it too."

  
  


Max smiled, and smothered the bowl of vanilla ice cream in chocolate syrup, then reached into the cupboard and hunted for some rainbow sprinkles. He grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and stuck it neatly into the heaping mound, before turning to head back to Liz's room.

  
  


"Thank you so much Max," Liz said gratefully, as he came over to sit on the side of her bed, with the ice cream. "I love you. You know that, right?" she smiled up at him as he leaned down to kiss her sweetly.

  
  


"Here," he said triumphantly, as he presented his ice cream masterpiece. Liz giggled, as he took a spoonful and held it in front of her curved lips.

  
  


"You're not going to feed me . . . " Liz said in disbelief. When Max gave her a stubborn smile, she busted out laughing. He took this opportunity to unload his scoop of dessert into her open mouth. Liz squealed at the shocking coldness, then her eyes lit up and she pulled the spoon out of Max's hand.

  
  


"Hey!" Max said, grabbing at the spoon.

  
  


"Uh, uh! Now it's your turn . . . " she said as she spooned some ice cream into his waiting mouth. Before he closed it, he bent forward and captured Liz's mouth in a cold, creamy kiss. They fell together to the bed, and started feeding and kissing each other. For the rest of the night, Liz lay wrapped in Max's protective embrace. She slept confident in the knowledge that her trusted best friend would never let anything happen to her, not while he was around anyway. ((So I guess I'll just have to stick around for awhile . . . )) he thought. Max smiled as he looked down at the peaceful figure asleep on his chest. He kissed the top of her head; it wasn't hot anymore, he realized. He tightened his arms around her, and Liz smiled in her sleep, snuggling closer to her beloved.

  
  


The End

   [1]: mailto:redmax@bellsouth.net



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